Daedalus
by Sorentense
Summary: Erlking's bookish little wiseass and Kringle's wiseass little bookworm. Like their fathers before them, these changeling girls are two sides of one caring, vicious, half-insane coin. They haven't been in the supernatural game for long, but they've 'scienced the shit out of it' and are ready to carve out a legend of their own!
1. Chapter 1

"Do you think you'll be awake enough to hunt tonight?"

With some difficulty, Evvie emerged from the mess of blankets, pillows, and papers that she had collected over the afternoon. "Is tonight a Hunt night?" she mumbled, rubbing her eyes. "I hadn't realized… I mean, the goblins _usually_ tell me, but of course that doesn't mean they _always_ will..."

"No, not a Wild Hunt." Anya removed a small notebook from her purse. "I'm talking about one of ours."

Evvie sat up and looked a great deal more like a changeling of the Wildfae. "You have a new lead?"

Anya opened the notebook and held it out. "The police arrested a baggage handler at Sky Harbor today on drug charges. Forensics found very little searching his car – a few sandwich bags of cannabis, I believe – but they took samples from the stains in his trunk and brought them back from analysis. They turned up as mucous and urine mostly, although several were blood, but they all had high levels of human growth hormone."

"Well, that's not suspicious… No chance he's been cleaning up after a pregnant wife?"

The Winter changeling's eyes glinted. "Not unless he has a pregnant _husband_ as well."

Evvie snorted. "Thank God for the Y chromosome. Have the police picked up on that?"

Anya shook her head. "There are more tests to run first, and there may not be enough sample to run them. But I've been working in the forensic lab for three months now, and I _know_ when a sample is unusual the moment it touches water." Most practitioners, even those bound to a single element, were too focused on working with their magic to listen with it. However, for those willing to put in the thought and practice, an extra sense that provided direct molecular data was invaluable. Although very few magicians would actually use the phrase "molecular data."

Evvie nodded and kept reading. "Doesn't look like they know much about the man they arrested, just the usual driver's license information. No one at his residence?"

Anya huffed and took a sip of coffee from her travel mug. "I'm as mortal as you are, you know. You can stop assuming that I can go anywhere and do anything in a single afternoon."

Her friend's eyes twinkled over the pages. "You've been spending time with Mab, haven't you? You're getting _chillingly_ evasive."

She sighed and crossed her arms. Shortly after her power emerged and the Kringle claimed her as his daughter, he had begun bringing her to social occasions at the Arctis Tor. The Winter Queen had taken a bit of a fancy to her and frequently invited her to accompany her father on more private – and often political – visits. It was an aspiring diplomat's dream come true, and she had developed a high regard for Mab, but the whole situation screamed 'setup.' "I'm not trying to become a true Winter Sidhe, I simply…."

" _Anya_." Evvie scooted closer. "You know I'm only teasing. I'm happy that your father's semi-consort likes having you around."

The corner of Anya's mouth twitched. "Is the Summer Queen still sending assassins?"

Evvie flopped back with a groan. "I had to play cat and mouse all over the oncology ward today with one of them. I finally gave up and vomited everywhere so I could lead him away." Inter-species half-breeds played a high-stakes game of genetic roulette, particularly those who developed magic. Evvie's immune system had expressed mostly Sidhe phenotypes, which regularly attacked her more human features. It left her physically weak and swarming with health problems, but the ability to be 'sick' at will was a nice consolation prize. "If that incident screws up the clinical trial data, I'm taking it out of his hide. Or _hers_ , if possible. It's not like I had any control of my father's affairs!"

"But you are still living proof of one," Anya explained patiently. "And to add insult to injury, the Erlking seems to favor you over her children. You can see why she'd be annoyed."

"The Kringle is more affectionate to you than to his legitimate bratlings," Evvie mumbled. "But Mab still likes you." She avoided mentioning Anya's scrupulosity about laws and justice as a probable cause for Mab's interest. While it was certainly something rare among the Fair Folk, and also something that Mab, as a judge figure, might be drawn to, bringing it up would only make Anya feel awkward. Or worse, encourage her.

"Mab is… somewhat more rational than her sister." She picked up the notebook from where Evvie had dropped it. "Now, returning to our own efforts at rationality… I did stop by the suspect's residence and found nothing larger than a rat. And he lives in a small, second story apartment, so there's little chance of a shielded cell. He's probably just their deliveryman."

The other girl craned her neck to get another look at the notes. "So you think he's with one of the rings we've been tracking?"

"His apartment wasn't too far from the brothel we raided last week. It could be coincidence, it could be a solid relationship. We can look for ties while we're there, but I think it's best to go as soon as we can locate the captives."

Evvie looked at the floor. "Yeah," she whispered. "It is." The changeling girls had come into their power late, at the age of 24. After the initial shock had worn off - and an archangel secured them training - the choice to ferret out human trafficking rings had been an easy one. The execution of their choice, however, had been less easy, and several unmarked graves bore testimony to that fact. They had refined their technique over the past two years, but time ticked on outside their influence; they could not undo an inflicted trauma, and they could not always find the captives once they had been shipped again. If they were going to save anyone, they had to move quickly.

Anya pointed to a string of characters at the bottom of the page. "This is the car's ID in the forensics department. I can think of at least two malks who would be interested in the challenge of sniffing out its trails. I'll get a couple gallons of ice cream and go ask." Any malk would be severely insulted if someone brought it pre-killed prey, but they did share the typical Faerie weakness for human foods. Ice cream was a particular favorite of theirs – especially if black cherry was involved.

"I'll text Brian and ask if he can get anything on the baggage this guy has been handling." Evvie's older brother – well, adoptive brother, since she had been swapped for the real Evelyn McGrath as a newborn – provided much-needed technical support. Both girls would fry nearby electronics if emotionally aroused, but Brian was an excellent computer systems engineer. He kept a running virtual map of the Phoenix area updated with their findings and his home-baked algorithms flagged potential waystations with amazing accuracy.

"Sky Harbor is too busy for the Little Folk to monitor passengers," Anya surmised, "but they might be able to watch for luggage with live humans inside."

"Maybe…. It depends on how iron-dense the place is, but I think they could watch the bags being moved on the open strip. If I can spin it as a game and pay them a salary of cupcakes, they might pull it off."

Anya chuckled. "Try. I think they'll do almost anything for those mocha cupcakes." So would Anya, but there was no way she'd tell her friend that.

Evvie snapped her fingers. "Oh, speaking of cupcakes!" She got up and picked her way through the laundry strewn across her floor. "Hey, Notker! Can you pause the movie for a second?"

The sounds of space flight and a glorious soundtrack from the living room ceased and a sinewy, admittedly grotesque humanoid ducked through Evvie's bedroom door. Even carrying a remote and boasting a smear of pink frosting on its chin, he gave off an unmistakably feral air. "What is it, _diabhal_?" His harsh voice matched the rest of his appearance. "The rasping Vader has at last sent a true hunter to retrieve the space mortals."

"Oh, you're at the part with Boba Fett? He's awesome! The movies don't give him nearly enough time, but I could check out a couple of the books about him if you like." Evvie checked herself mid-fangirling. "In any case, I won't keep you long now. I merely wanted to ask if you and your kin would care to play tonight. Steal a few children, terrorize a few assholes, the usual."

Notker grinned, showing his impressive array of teeth. "We are always ready for a hunt, _diabhal._ When shall we begin?"

"This evening. First Anya must track our quarry, you and the others must finish the movie, and I must finish these adverse event reports." She pulled a face at the papers awaiting her. She was able to keep her job despite regular illnesses only because she was willing and able to bring work home. Unfortunately, the portable parts of medical research were usually the most annoying. "Anyway, I'm glad you guys are enjoying the movie. Have fun!"

The goblin inclined his head slightly and returned to the main area. A moment later, the movie noises and goblin commentary resumed.

Anya smiled and shook her head. "If someone had told me at the beginning that there would be goblins casually watching TV in my apartment, I would have called them insane."

"To be fair, you also called me crazy when I informed you that Jimelia was a familiar."

And the _look_ made its appearance again. "Evvie, she's _not_ a familiar. My Jimbug is a perfectly normal kitty cat!"

"Who came out of a warzone in Lebanon and bonded exclusively to you?" Evvie wrinkled her nose. "I'm still not buying it."

Anya rolled her eyes. Neither could positively prove their theory about Anya's elusive cat – whose actual name was neither Jimelia nor Jimbug, but Jimmy. "How long have the goblins been calling you that?" she asked, changing the subject.

"What, Javal? Only a few days. I haven't been able to find a translation online. Any ideas?" Their tutor was one of a rare species of amphibious dragon, an ancient master of both fire and water magic. After their lessons, while Evvie was running her endless experiments, Anya had taken the opportunity to study historic languages. Initially surprised, the ancient creature had been gratified to have a student who loved forgotten languages for their own sake, just as he did.

"It's an Irish word for _mother_ , Evvie." She smirked faintly. "And, point of interest, it also means _demon._ "

Evvie stared for a moment, then fell back on her bed in a laughing fit. "Well, if it's Irish, that explains why I couldn't spell it," she finally managed. "It's sweet of them, in their own way."

Anya fixed her with a stare of disbelief. It was unlikely that the term 'sweet' had been applied to the goblins since the time of Christ. At least, not by anyone who lived to tell the tale. "I… suppose you can see it that way," she allowed.

Her friend looked off into space with a bittersweet half-smile. "Look at it from their perspective," she suggested. "Goblins aren't really a fertile species. Most of them were once lost or rejected children, transformed by my father. It's a good deal for them: long life, a place to belong, few responsibilities, and an outlet for their pent-up anger. They like being what they are, the tricky and ruthless creatures hunting in the dark. But far back in their memory, they have an instinctive notion of the loving mother they either lost or never had. And then a woman proves herself in the Hunt and welcomes them with open arms…. Nothing comes free among the Fair Folk. So, after a year's analysis, when they still can't find an explicit motive, they match her up with the one concept they _have_ of freely given care: a mother." She grinned. "And I'm not surprised about the 'devil' connotation. I mean, they come with us on our little adventures." Evvie's eyes glittered just thinking of their vigilante rampages.

"You know… I don't think they could welcome you without that part of the equation," Anya affirmed after a moment's consideration. "Manipulation and destruction are in their nature. Someone who lacked those attributes would be to them as someone who never reads would be to us."

Evvie smirked. "Yeah, probably." She stared off into the distance again for a minute. "I'm not going to say anything about it for now," she decided. "I'd probably alienate them by overanalyzing. Anyway, it's bad science to start tampering in the middle of response." She grinned mischievously. "So, what do the malks call you?"

"Anya. Which is a significant step up from 'mortal.'" She rose and picked up her purse. "So, I need to get ice cream, and I'll check the hall closet before I go." The hall closet in their apartment was usually stuffed with sleeping bags, toiletries, and clothing of various sizes for the trafficking victims they rescued. Jimmy's cat toys had a way of migrating in when the girls were out. "Can you think of anything else we need?"

Evvie scrunched up her face. "I know we're running low on toothbrushes, but that's about it. Maybe some Comet? The tub is usually a mess after one of these hunts."

"Got it." As Anya was on her way out the door, she heard a now-familiar announcement in the living room: "Good news, everyone! Red Death stalks abroad tonight!"

o-o-o-o

 _Talk to me, Goose._

Anya pursed her lips. _If you get my neck broken with your Top Gun quotes, I'm giving your phone number to that maniac from the White Court._ Perhaps it was paranoid, but a single rendition of 'Angel of Music' led to Anya being kidnapped by a _singing_ White Court vampire. In a mask and cape. Maybe it was a side effect of their magic, maybe God had a weird sense of humor, but after a year of similar coincidences, the girls had a reason to be paranoid.

 _Wait, it-turns-me-on-when-you-boil-out-my-vitreous-humor guy?_ Evvie's end of their psychic link was a mess of static for a moment. _I'll be good. No more quotes. Who's where in the building?_

She closed her eyes and reached out with her power, feeling the water as it moved through live bodies, letting it become moving forms in her mind. _The children are all concentrated around the upper two levels. Clustered and stationary on the top, probably a holding region, only two guards. Feels like a mixture of guards and customers on the second level; I can confirm that these children are being molded for sex trafficking._ Overwhelming horror and guilt surged up and she struggled to hold her convulsions at bay. While she had evaded most physical pitfalls of being a half-breed, her genetics came back to bite her in her neural development – and they bit _hard._

Evvie remained quiet. Though their compulsive responses were different – she was rarely paralyzed by her mental rollercoaster, while Anya was frozen daily – the agony underneath was similar. _We can help them,_ she nudged after a moment.

Anya forced her attention back to the building, accepting that she would go into convulsions for a moment. _The ground floor and basement are all adults. Most of the flabbier ones are on the ground floor. I think the basement is the guard barracks and the ground is their business floor._

 _Got it. Get into the ground floor when you can and I'll chase them toward you. Okay?_

Anya nodded. _I'll be ready as soon as I can._

 _Don't push too hard. The goblins will snatch the children first, and we can stall the rest until you're ready._ A primal, predatory grin was conveyed as Evvie considered stalling their prey.

She pulled her dark cloak tighter around herself, concealing the red lining, and adjusted her masquerade mask. _Be careful._

o-o-o-o

Evvie bit her lip, wishing she could do more for her friend. After a second, she straightened her shoulders and turned to the gleaming eyes in the shadows. "The captive children are on the top two floors," she relayed. "Scath, take the first wave to the highest floor and remove the children quietly. Notker, I want you and the second wave on the middle floor; I leave it to you to steal those children from under the noses of their abusers, then drive the scum down to the main floor. I will meet you there. Aedh?"

"Yes, _diabhal_?" grated a soft voice from behind her.

She managed not to start. "You and the third wave have the basement level, where most of the thugs are laughing unaware." She smirked. "Please chase them up to the main floor at some point. It would be such a shame to leave them out of the fun, don't you think?"

Feral laughter echoed around her as the goblins vanished to play their part in the evening's hunt. Evvie brushed the dust and wrinkles from her dress and shook her bangs over her eyes. "Show time," she breathed.

From her earlier 'predator' posture, she transitioned to the movements of a fragile, sheltered girl who knew she had no business in the seedy side of town. The dainty vintage dress, her wide eyes, and the way she clutched her black cloak around her completed the effect. At least, it certainly fooled the guards smoking outside the main entrance. Whistles and grins greeted her as she rounded the corner, staring around her in helpless bewilderment.

"Whassamatter, little lady?" one of them leered. "You lost?"

She just gave him a fearful look and backed up a few steps.

Another laughed softly and pushed off the wall to approach her. "What's with that face? Smile, babe. You're too pretty not to smile."

"Th-thank you," she stammered, clutching her cloak. She tracked his cohorts out of the corner of her eyes as they circled around her. As expected, these men were bored and – to protect the owners' business interests – not interested in what was being sold inside.

"Hey, what's with this thing?" the one behind her asked, stroking the cloak. She jumped away, to their general amusement. "You come from a costume party?"

Evvie pretended to wilt under their sniggers. "I-I'm looking for my cousin," she stammered. "I was supposed to meet him at this address..." She held out a tiny scrap of paper, onto which she had copied the building's address two minutes ago.

One of the men snatched it. "Well, look at this! This pretty little thing ain't lost after all." He threw it down, sniggering. "You should've told him to pick you up, babe. Don't you know where you are?"

"Not… not really," she whimpered. "P-p-please leave me alone! I just want to find my cousin…."

"Stop playing around and take her inside." The bored-looking man who had not joined in the catcalling unlocked the door. "I'm not pullin' your asses out of the fire if her cousin complains to the boss." This man was what Evvie considered the 'real' guard; the others were essentially dumb muscle. She gave him a jerky nod as she scurried past; he just looked at her flatly and closed the door behind her.

The main floor was decorated with exquisite taste, Evvie noted. _Almost a shame to ruin it... I wonder if it would be ethical to take that sofa when we leave?_

 _Extremely unethical. Besides, it's too recognizable._

Evvie kept the grin off her face. _You're ready, then?_

 _I'm in,_ Anya confirmed. _Shall we?_

 _We shall._

A well-dressed man glanced over and excused himself from conversation to examine the small girl surrounded by leering thugs. "Is this a new prospect?" he asked smoothly, an unpleasant gleam in his eyes. He took her chin in his hand. "Let's have a look." He reached out to pull back her cowl, then hissed as his fingers were burned.

Evvie smirked and raised her eyes to look at him. "Didn't anyone tell you?" she asked, dropping back into her 'predator' voice. "Some things are just too hot to handle." The man screamed as the flesh melted off his hand. _And maybe because that's such a dreadful pun._ She grinned as he fell back, clutching the arm that now ended in singed phalanges. _Anya, if you would?_

"What the hell was that?" demanded one of the guards. He swung her around by the arm, then jumped back with a yell. From underneath the black hood and brown hair, bright red blood trailed down from the girl's eyes, with tiny red drops beading from scattered pores. "Shit! You carrying some kind of disease, bitch?"

Evvie laughed softly and extended her power over the light fixtures, shifting their emission to a dim reddish glow that cast eerie shadows throughout the room. "Not in the literal sense, perhaps," she demurred. "But not incorrect, either. The Red Death is here tonight, and she is waiting for you."

One of the men nearly dropped his gun. "That thing is real?"

"What thing?" Another man lined up his gun on her. "Ain't nothing real that I can't shoot!"

The first man grabbed his arm in a panic. "The Red Death and her demon friend ain't like nothin' else real, man! Didn't you hear what happened to those guys on the south side? Skin drained dry, bones burned without touching the skin, parts blown up from inside, marks like nothin' the docs ever seen… I'm tellin' you, this ain't no regular bitch!"

His bolder comrade shook him off in disgust. "Bullshit! Watch this!" He opened fire on the strange girl.

It didn't work.

Actually, to be specific, the gun worked. It fired just as usual and spat lead slugs right toward the visitor, but the bullets never reached her. A mere inch away from their target, the bullets dropped to the ground in a brilliant flash. After a moment of dumbfounded staring, the men opened fire in earnest. Evvie just stood there grinning, siphoning off the kinetic energy of every bullet that came her way until they had run out of ammunition.

"What are you dumbasses doing now?" snarled the 'real' guard, storming in. The moment he closed the door, the lock was melted shut. He wasted no time on fear, simply drew his gun and sent a single shot right to her head. Like all the others, however, his bullet fell to the ground in a flash of light.

"I guess you missed the memo," the cloaked girl teased. She bent down and picked up the fallen bullet. "You see, without the energy of an explosion behind it, this is just a piece of lead." Her hand clenched around it as she turned her gaze over all the guards. "So tell me, then. If a bullet kills a man, is not the charge that propels it equally responsible?" Molten lead began to drip from between her fingers.

"Tell me you didn't break into this place to talk philosophy," the real guard returned, surreptitiously digging in his jacket pocket.

"I detest explaining my metaphors." Evvie flicked the hot lead into a well-dressed man's face. "But I guess you might not reach the conclusion yourselves." She pointed toward the overhead lights. "This place is built on the suffering of innocents." The light exploded and she pointed toward another one. "The scum who own it could not manage it without your support." Another explosion. "Therefore… you are guilty along with them." The last light shattered and the main floor was plunged into darkness.

Into that darkness came a cacophony of clatters, shouts, and inhuman laughter. Evvie's unsuitably sweet giggle greeted the terrified men from upstairs. "Well, it's about time, dearies. I'd hate for you to miss the party!"

"You call this a party?" one of them choked.

She snorted. "I wasn't talking to you." She snapped her fingers and greenish-gold flames scattered throughout the room, illuminating the grotesque forms in the shadows – some taller than the tallest man, some knee-high to the small woman, some still clean, some already splattered with blood and dirt, but all wearing the same grin, a grin more fang than teeth. "Notker, is this all of them?"

"Every one," a particularly lanky specimen confirmed. "Is all in readiness, _diabhal_?"

One of the men lunged at her with a knife. Evvie merely smirked and dissipated that kinetic energy into heat, as she had done with the bullet, which sent him tumbling to the ground. When he rose, she winked at the goblins. "We're still waiting on Aedh's wing from the basement." Thumps and screams suggested they would not wait long. Meanwhile, the assembled men were panicking, crashing into each other and beating on the door. Evvie crossed her arms. "You know, you won't be able to break it down. I'm sealing every crack you make. And while I really don't mind if you hurt yourselves trying," she continued, leisurely raising her arm, "I'm afraid crushing each other to death is _not_ on the schedule this evening." And with that, every one of them stopped moving.

Noises of surprise and delight burst from the shadowy creatures. "Is this a new trick, _diabhal_?" one asked, grinning from ear to ear – quite literally, as his mouth spanned more than half of his skull's circumference.

Evvie grinned. "Indeed."

"It's the one she's been snickering about for the past month," another feminine voice corroborated. In the darkness toward the back of the building, the frantic traffickers could just make out another shape gliding toward them.

The visible girl shrugged. "Can you blame me? Voltage is a pretty big stretch for 'fire' mages – most wouldn't even consider it – and we're talking about some fairly small potential fields here."

Anya stepped out into the light. "Oh, I know. And really, it turned out _brilliant_." She paused and listened to the thumping from below. "Ah. I take it that we're still waiting on a few… guests?"

Before anyone could offer confirmation, the basement door burst open and a pack of terrified hired muscle surged out. They froze when they saw the two girls standing among their paralyzed fellows, and some turned to flee.

Anya shook her head, dislodging her cowl and revealing the intricate red and black mask beneath it. "Don't be so shy," she admonished mockingly, quoting from confidences of many frightened children. "Come _here._ " She reached out and dragged on their bodily fluids, carefully distributing the force across all available tissue and hauling them toward her. The goblins closed in behind them.

"Who are you people?" one of them choked out.

Anya smirked. "You mean you haven't put it together yet?" She pushed her cloak back to reveal the crimson dress beneath. She was understandably proud of that old-fashioned ballgown, as it had taken her the entire Lord of the Rings trilogy and five seasons of Doctor Who to make. "The Red Death is among you tonight."

One man gulped. "Then…. Then that really is the demon?" He turned horrified eyes toward Evvie.

She scowled. "I am _not_ a demon." She glanced around, scorching the muscle tissue of several hands that were reaching for guns. "If you must call me something, I suppose I might be the Angel of the Odd," she suggested with a grin.

"Sounds like a pair of demons to me," growled one of the men. He dug in his pocket and charged the two girls. "Burn this!"

They blinked at the battered crucifix he was brandishing. "Ah…" Anya finally commented, "we'll just take that." She dragged the man forward and pocketed the crucifix

Evvie started her flames at the man's fingernails and sent them surging back up his arm. "You know," she announced over his howls of anguish, "even if we _were_ demons, I'm pretty sure that hiding behind a cross while trading on human suffering counts as sacrilege. So I doubt it would offer any protection." She let the man fall back, clutching his deeply scorched arm.

"So," Anya continued, dark eyes glittering in her mask, "are there any more stupid questions?"

"Yes," the real guard volunteered. "Would you mind moving aside for a moment?"

Anya blinked. "Ah… excuse me?"

Leisurely, the guard walked forward. "I need to access that wall safe behind you."

She reached out a hand as he passed and pulled at his blood. The skin on his left arm burst open, spattering the fluid across the floor. The man only glanced down at it, then kept going. The arm… _rippled_ , for lack of a better word. The skin changed colors, the shape altered – and then the arm returned to its former appearance with no wound in sight.

 _Did you see that?_ Anya gasped into their link.

 _It's worse than you think,_ Evvie returned grimly. One of the few women moved to take advantage of the distraction and charged; a stream of fire to half her face changed her mind. _I can't keep the action potentials from propagating in his motor system! He's remapping the nerves every couple seconds!_

Anya dragged on the fluids inside of him and felt exactly what Evvie meant. Somehow, the fluid in his body was regularly being redistributed faster than she could grab onto it. _I can't get a lock, either. We'll have to do something else._

Evvie nodded and beckoned one of the small goblins onto her shoulder. "I'm going to leave these bastards in your claws, dearie. No fatalities, right?"

"We understand," the creature snickered back. Flashing a grin, it leapt down and bit deep into one man's leg. Goblin cheers and panicked screams combined. It sounded better than it probably should have.

 _They know something,_ Evvie updated her friend as they closed in on the mystery man, who was now passing the biometric scans with ease, despite being a mere guard. _That wasn't just a destruction grin._

 _Any idea what it is?_

 _Not yet._

Anya slid into a defensive stance. "Pardon me for interrupting," she addressed the man drily, "but I must point out that the transaction records are valuable evidence. I'm afraid we can't let you take them."

The man half-turned. "Evidence?"

Evvie pointed toward the landline phone at the front desk. "We call 911 on the way out. Most of these assholes will still evade the justice of the state, but now and then it puts some behind bars. And all of them need an ambulance."

He found what he was looking for and turned to face them with a wry half-smile. "It's a rare thing, someone who lives up to their reputation – especially one so contradictory as that of the Red Death."

"I'd like to say the same," Anya returned. "Unfortunately, I don't seem to know who you are."

He chuckled. "I'm afraid I'm not so arrogant as to be baited by that, Miss Death. However…" he glanced around the room, "there's no particular reason to hide my identity at this point, either." His skin rippled and suddenly they were looking at a pleasant-faced man with swarthy features of no particular ethnicity and quite remarkable golden eyes. "I go by the name of Goodman Grey."

Evvie's amusement carried through their psychic link. _Well, he does have a reputation for professionalism. No surprise, then, that he was the most competent of the guards._

 _I was thinking more that we should have known he was a high-caliber shifter as soon as his internal structure started rippling about._ Anya's thoughts somehow conveyed a sarcastic smile. _But yes, the professional aspect certainly corroborates the ID._

"In any case, princess, you can rest at ease. My employer has no interest in the transaction records." The man flattened his fingers out and removed a false back to the safe. "I am after information far more precious." He carefully lifted out a thin manila envelope and pressed a button on his watch.

 _Minor rearrangement of the circulating electric field,_ Evvie reported. _I'm guessing that's some sort of shielding item, and – hang on!_ "Aedh!" she bellowed. "Don't eat that arm!"

Aedh stopped with his mouth full of a writhing man's flesh. "Why?"

"It has needle marks all over it," Evvie explained. "God only knows what kind of drugs are in there, but nearly all of them make you vomit in my apartment. _No eating the drugged humans!_ " After receiving a grumble of acknowledgement, she turned back to the conversation with Grey. "Sorry about the interruption."

"Oh, it's no trouble," Grey acknowledged politely. He tipped his hat to the girls and sauntered toward the door.

The girls exchanged looks. "We're not really letting him walk, are we?" Evvie muttered dubiously.

Anya narrowed her eyes. "What do you think?" She reached toward the wall and a blast of water left the pipes, forming a wall of ice in Grey's path. He turned and looked at them expectantly. "I'm afraid your role in all of this isn't over, Goodman Grey. You see, I scanned the bodies of every person in this building. I _know_ not all of those children were cowed. I _know_ some of them were old enough that sneaking past some half-drunk louts and snatching a key could have been feasible." She folded her arms. "But they couldn't have gotten past you, could they?"

"I'm not sure what you're driving at."

"If it weren't for your… assistance… some of these children would have been free some time ago."

He shrugged. "I'm afraid thrilling heroics are not my line of work, Miss Death. I take jobs in order to pay my Rent; it's that simple."

"You have such a hefty rent that you can't choose your jobs a bit?" Evvie asked skeptically. "Where do you live, the Taj Mahal?"

He smirked. "It's not that sort of Rent."

The girls exchanged grins. "Really?" Anya shrugged and turned back to him. "A puzzle for another day."

Goodman Grey only looked faintly amused. "Well. Would you get on with the torture, then? I'm afraid I have a deadline to meet."

"Please," Evvie huffed. "There's no point in torturing you; you've already resected every nociceptor in your body, and your insular cortex is suspiciously inactive." Her mouth tipped wryly. "I hope you plan to put them back at some point. You may be able to shift around any damage your body takes, but that doesn't guarantee you'd notice every minute problem without pain perception."

"This is hardly my first venture," he assured her dryly. "Although I doubt you'll be able to locate me once I _have_ restored them."

Evvie shrugged. "Oh, that's not the plan. I'm sure you care little for physical pain, anyway." She grinned. "I suspect you'll feel _this_ much more." She flicked a finger and a stream of fire shot toward the envelope in his hand.

Grey simply watched the flames surround the documents in his hand. "That's not going to work," he chided patiently. The fire disappeared and the envelope remained intact. "It's generally good practice to keep valuable items shielded. Now, if you're quite finished -" Grey stopped midsentence as a stream of water flew from the documents in his hand. Both girls had the rare privilege of seeing Goodman Grey completely shocked as the desiccated papers crumbled to dust.

Anya twirled the water around her hand. "One of the odd things about shields is that most are crafted to keep things _out_. Everyone forgets to keep things _in_ – even when they transport organic matter." Her eyes glittered in the firelight. "I suspect we are now done here, Mr. Grey. Have a good eve-"

All at once, Grey was looming over her, his inhuman slit-pupiled eyes the only sign of annoyance in his face. "That was a foolish thing to do, little princess," he assured her in a deathly calm voice. "You may consider yourselves profoundly lucky that those papers were not the only source for the information I need." One of his arms snaked out and grabbed a particularly well-clad man around the throat. Quarry in hand, Grey broke down the door and stalked out into night without the slightest indication of effort.

Anya and Evvie stared blankly for a moment. _Well,_ Evvie managed, _that was certainly… humbling._ Goodman Grey could have killed them then and there, since they couldn't get control of his body. And if Grey slipped through their nets, they were still screwed if a naagloshi came into town.

 _Indeed._ Anya squared her shoulders and caught the interna of several 'guests' making for the door. "Pardon me," she corrected, deadpan, "but that does not mean you can leave."

o-o-o-o

"The Angel of the Odd?" Anya inquired as they were making their way home.

Evvie grimaced. "Can you imagine if my uber-Catholic parents found out people were calling me 'the demon?' They're already distraught about the torture aspect of our little venture."

Anya winced. "Ah. Well, I must admit, your thermodynamics metaphor can't cover all moral objections."

The fire user sighed and crossed her arms. "When people are comfortably situated in their lives, they're resistant to change, just like a stable chemical mixture. To destabilize the system enough for a reaction to take place, you must add _energy_. And if you can elevate the system to the right threshold, if you achieve the activation energy, transformations begin to happen." Her mouth curved without humor. "The embittered, the callous, the masters of denial – their activation energy is monstrously high. Naturally, it takes a monster to bring them there."

"So we're a spiritual Bunsen burner, hm?"

"Or one hell of a catalyst," Evvie shrugged. "But whether we push them toward their activation energy or drag the threshold down toward them, the fact is that we force them into a transition state and a reaction can proceed. It may be a good one, or a bad one, or simply a fall back to where they were. But there's a transformative opportunity there that they couldn't reach before."

Anya simply nodded and stared up into the night sky. She believed in justice more than reaction schematics, and she knew there were Biblical precedents for strange, almost magical dispensers thereof acting on the Lord's behalf. But there was a fine, fine line between a messenger of God and a mad thing raining destruction, and the line was becoming hard to see. When she was simply human, when the only mystical creatures were pure angels and hellish demons, the line had been so clear. But now that there was a wild spectrum of paranormal creatures and she herself was one of them, right and wrong could be harder to define.

 _They shouldn't be,_ Anya admonished herself. _I should know. I've lived my whole life in logic and morality; the discovery of non-human, magically powered sapience should not change a thing._ Yet in some ineffable way, things had changed. _So long as we do not pass 'an eye for an eye,' we should stay within acceptable limits for true justice. And the pain, helplessness, and horror we bring to these wretches are a perfect match for the suffering of their victims,_ she reassured herself. But she knew she could very well be lying. _And yet I do it anyway._

"Besides," Evvie intruded, "it would be a little pretentious to call myself 'The Doctor' when I haven't even applied to grad school, wouldn't it?"

Dragged back to the present moment, Anya shifted her backpack to a more comfortable spot. In a supreme feat of spatial reasoning, she was able to fit her entire Red Death gown into a hiking backpack and stack a few books on top – anywhere between three and seven, depending on how much she liked Tolstoy at the moment. "So you named yourself after an Edgar Allan Poe comedy?"

Evvie reached into her backpack and retrieved a peach. Her flouncy sundress and both cloaks still left enough room for a few books _and_ snacks. Of course, on the flip side, her smaller costume and their reluctance to fully undress left her in a tank top and shorts, while Anya could wear anything she liked, but there were worse things to wear in Phoenix. "Well, you're already named after one of his creations. I thought it fitting. We can have a theme!"

"I was originally going for The Scarlet Pimpernel," Anya groused. "Remember all that time I spent looking for red brocade with just the right floral motif?"

"We really should have foreseen that an English wildflower dropped at a scene in Arizona would desiccate before the police arrived, much less the media – hey!" A shower of tepid water enveloped her.

"You missed a blood smear," Anya informed her innocently.

Evvie turned pathetic eyes toward her. "Did this come out of the storm drain?"

"Mm," Anya confirmed, pulling the last pin from her hair. As soon as the dark, wavy mass fell loose, she started braiding it again. Anya's hair seemed to grow for the express purpose of clawing at her eyes and entangling nearby objects; she usually kept it braided within an inch of its life, while the hair retaliated by whipping bystanders each time she turned her head.

"Do you have any idea what _lives_ in the storm drains?" Evvie asked piteously.

"I distilled it." Anya's cat-smile returned. "It's cleaner than the water from a faucet."

With a blast of heat, Evvie was completely dry again. "It's the _perceived_ contamination," she mumbled. Her end of the psychic link became a mass of experimental results, including one study about people's unwillingness to eat raisins off a sanitized fly swatter.

"But back to the name!" Anya continued quickly, knowing that Evvie's contamination anxiety could induce a full OCD attack in her. Evvie apparently recalled this fact, too, because the onslaught of uncomfortable studies halted. "Do you think it will change you if it catches on?" Acquiring the title of 'Red Death' had increased Anya's ability to move blood and extract it through capillaries, but she suspected herself of becoming a little crueler into the bargain.

"The original Angel of the Odd was kind of like the Red Death," Evvie mused. "Not really angel or demon, just a morally ambiguous oddity. It was more arrogant and impulsive than doom-dealing, but if I get worse in that regard, you and Master Reinga will beat it out of me."

Anya laughed softly. She could just imagine the ancient dragon's reaction if Evvie became _more_ unpredictable. "And if we can't do it, Michael might."

The pyromancer shrugged uncomfortably. The Archangel Michael was the patron she chose at Confirmation back in high school, and he held that patronage to be valid despite her... lacking humanity. He had tried so very hard to help them control their magic, but he and Evvie had a slight personality clash. This, on top of the once-religious Evvie's mysterious hatred for all things holy, made a functional teacher-student relationship impossible. He had handed them off to Reinga-te-Moana, an old sea dragon who owed him a favor, but still kept watch on his recalcitrant charge. Evvie desperately wanted to like him – she _had_ liked him, all her life, until the age of twenty-two – but could no longer get through a conversation without snarling at him, just as she couldn't enter a church without desperately longing to slaughter the worshipers, or listen to her parents pray without craving their deaths. _But Michael's worried, not angry, when I lose it at him. That's as interesting as it is irritating._

 _He has some idea what's happening to you, but he can't or won't tell us,_ Anya agreed. _That's big… and worrisome._ Something was deeply wrong with her friend, and she didn't like the idea that an _archangel_ was unnerved by it. _Now is not the time,_ she reprimanded herself. _I can't have a panic attack now, not on a busy night, and not in public._ She forced herself away from the incessant shadow and back toward the present moment. "Do you think we'll get anything out the name?" she asked. She smiled slightly. "Other than avoiding a conflict with your parents, I mean."

Evvie continued chomping at her peach. "Probability tampering, perhaps? That creature's main job seemed to be bringing unlikely events into play." She took another bite and looked around them. "Are you sure we're going the right way?"

Anya pointed ahead of them. "There's a little independent coffee shop two lights ahead. We're meeting your brother there." Some people knew the layout of Phoenix in terms of major businesses; Anya knew it in terms of coffee shops and libraries.

"Think your mom will kill me if I get a pastry before dinner?" The goblins who did the actual child-snatching arrived home with the kids well before Anya and Evvie. Lindsey, their third roommate and the only one with medical training, would immediately have her hands full providing first aid, so Anya's mother volunteered to provide dinner and comfort for the traumatized children. She also provided two dogs, eager to become living plush toys and completely unfazed by grime or tears. Suffice to say, she was someone Evvie did not want to offend.

"She made macaroni and cheese," Anya responded, knowing her friend's weakness. Her lips curved mischievously. "One bowl even has bacon."

Images and scents of delicious cheese and glorious bacon instantly filled Evvie's head. "That works. Now I have one all-consuming desire and it cannot be satisfied with sugar. I am safe from the wrath of Mrs. Donovan!"

"I try to keep my mum from killing people," the hydromancer deadpanned. To date, neither Anya's mother nor the father she grew up with had actually killed someone, although several guests claimed to have died laughing. "Besides, she'll already be in a temper when we arrive. I didn't have time to scan the kids thoroughly, but… these bastards were rough, even by trafficker standards."

"Hm." The peach received a vicious bite. "I thought you were more enthusiastic than usual." As Anya had promised, civilization suddenly lit up around them. In an effort to lighten the mood, she flashed a teasing grin at her friend. "I was concerned, actually. I thought you were trying to get something out of your system. Perchance… a _man_?"

Anya recognized the effort and met the teasing with her stone-cold bitch face. "It gives the romance thing a rest, or else it gets the hose again."

"If I can't quote _Top Gun_ , you definitely can't quote _Silence of the Lambs._ " _Especially given that weird Hunt rule about officers only wearing the hides of their own kills._ Evvie's eyes suddenly widened. _Oh shit._

"Hannibal Lecter would blend into the paper more naturally than Maverick," Anya countered, reinforcing their façade as students. _What?_ _We were Tested against a tiger and a shark. It's not as though we can make them retroactively sapient._

"Dare you to cite it." _Yeah, but… I forgot to move the hides back into our rooms. They're still in the front room!_

Anya resisted the urge to smack her forehead. Instead, she applied chapstick, covering the lapse in their open conversation. _Mum is definitely going to kill us!_ Having traumatized children snatched by supernatural creatures already made for an interesting night; the traumatized children really did not need to be greeted by fearsome-looking animal skins stretched out on improvised frames.

 _Maybe Lindsey put them away?_

 _I doubt it. She's coming off a thirty hour shift at the zoo._ Anya hurriedly opened the door and strode into the coffee shop. "My caffeine levels are nowhere near sufficient for this."

"I'll watch for our ride." Carrying their cell phones into the target sites was too risky; not only could their signals be tracked if they came under suspicion, but a ringtone at the wrong time could screw up the entire job. _Don't forget to pay cash. We don't want card records, either._ When two people with anxiety disorders take up vigilantism, paranoia is the name of the game.

 _Of course. I'll get Brian an iced coffee, too._ Evvie's brother had a caffeine addiction that put Anya's to shame.

Evvie silently confirmed, then began the time-honored tradition of pacing nervously. _Hurry, hurry, hurry,_ she sang internally. _Mrs. Donovan will not be happy!_


	2. Chapter 2

Life has a way of surprising you. Some days, you walk out of the supermarket and smack right into a naagloshi. Some days, you try to help a homeless man and wind up with two demons chasing you through downtown Phoenix. Some days, the thug you thought was a human turns out to be a highly regarded shapeshifter. And some days, you come home expecting disaster and find that your creepy Hunt trophies make wonderful children's tents. The tiger and shark pelts had already been stretched and salted; now they were draped over a pair of Goodwill shelves while the soaking and drying phase was wrapping up. The battered shelves were missing all but the top layer, leaving plenty of room to sit underneath. Mrs. Donovan had scooted some couch cushions in there, too, making a comfortable nest for children and dogs. She still gave Anya and Evvie a look when they walked in.

'Sorry,' Anya mouthed to her mother. Evvie tried to hide behind Brian, who was setting up his laptop with zero concern over the animal skins. _Grow up!_

Evvie looked sheepish and started for the living room. _I'll get them to talk; see if Lindsey needs any scans done._

 _Right._ While Evvie bonded with the children over dogs and _Cinderella,_ Anya knocked on the main bathroom door. "Lindsey?"

"Anya!" Her friend sounded relieved. "Come in and give me a hand, will you?"

She complied and slipped into the bathroom. Lindsey was sitting on the toilet, looking a little pale under her rich brown complexion, while a trembling eight-year-old sat fully clothed in the tub. Anya immediately crouched down and smiled faintly at the injured child. "Hello." The child offered a jerky nod in return. "I'm Anya. What's your name?"

The child eyed her suspiciously, then turned away. On a second glance, she could see the half-healed puncture wounds on his throat. They came in pairs, and there were at least a dozen. It was probably a good thing the tub was empty; the water bottle at Lindsey's side froze with the force of Anya's wrath.

Lindsey offered Anya a wry half-smile. "I'm going to go out on a limb and say we're dealing with vampires here."

"Bugger." The Winter changeling got a hold of her outrage. "Sorry about that," she told the child. "I wouldn't want to talk with those injuries, either." The kid just continued to glare. "Are they all like this?" she asked softly

"One of the girls is willing to talk, but the rest are pretty silent. This is the only one to bite so far, though," Lindsey returned drily. Her left arm was wrapped in gauze, Anya now noticed, and she smelled like disinfectant. "He's a real fighter, too. He's got the most injuries of all the kids, and he needs to be tended quickly." She frowned. "They all do. Every one of those kids has to be scanned for concussions and internal damage." She sighed heavily. "And we need to know what kind of vampires we're dealing with here. I can't give them painkillers or antibiotics until I know what else is in their bloodstream."

Anya nodded silently and turned her gaze on the kid, looking with her power. He definitely had internal injuries, beyond the broken ribs. There were several old breaks and cuts that were infected and had to be reopened. _Evvie._

 _What's up?_

 _His injuries are bad. I haven't even looked at the others, but some of this is beyond our skill set. We need a real medic._

 _Sarissa?_ Maeve was a pain in the ass, but her mortal sister was a sweetheart. She'd lent them a hand in the past when Lindsey was out of her depth; she seemed relieved to do someone a normal favor without haggling about debts. And then eat pizza and watch old musicals in her pajamas, without having to explain anything to Mab. _She's only twenty minutes away, and she's a lot less creepy than we are._

 _She's a nurse. We're talking trauma medicine. And we're talking_ now.

Evvie went quiet. Trauma medicine meant either the ER or a healing specialist. Showing up to the ER right after a hit with injured kids in tow meant police investigations; the fact that what they did was 'impossible' might not keep them out of trouble if the wrong cop showed up. _Magic, then._ She bit her lip. _What's our balance with Monoc?_

Anya's father led something of a double life; sometimes he was the Winter King Kringle, sometimes he was Donar Vadderung, Norse god and head of Monoc Securities. He had suggested the girls do occasional contract work with Monoc to build their skills and reputations; he'd also taken an interest in their vigilante activities and was willing to loan them the services of a healer – at a reasonable price. This price usually manifested in the form of unpaid labor, be it a Monoc job or assistance in his Winter tasks. _We owed him quite a few, but we completed the pathogen-analysis system last month; assuming it works and he's able to identify vaccination needs in developing areas by Christmas, we're back at a zero balance._ Every now and then, a 'job' turned out to be playing Santa's helpers, devising ways to improve the efficacy of Kringle's annual gifting. Those jobs were definitely the best ones. _We can afford it; call him quickly._

 _Yub yub!_

Satisfied that help was on the way, Anya turned back to Lindsey. "Evvie's going to call in help from Vadderung to treat the injuries, but we should do what we can ourselves."

Lindsey wrinkled her nose. "Yeah, probably. I like your father, Anya, but I'd rather not be too far in his debt."

"That's only reasonable." Her father was a great man, and she was growing fond of him, but he was still a Sidhe lord _and_ an ancient god. They were known for being amoral and unpredictable. Even the Kringle – bloody _Santa Claus -_ didn't know better than to seduce a woman by impersonating her husband. _And that's where I came from._

"What about meds?"

Anya sucked in a deep breath. "Right, sorry." She'd been so concerned about the injuries that she nearly forgot the blood scan. She dove down into the child's bloodstream, feeling for the chemicals rushing through it. White Court vampires had human-like saliva, while the Black Court dripped a toxin that felt like embalming fluid. But what she found in this kid's blood felt more like a narcotic, bright with magic against her senses. _Ah yes, the logical suspects…_ They were dealing with the Red Court. _Bloody hell!_

o-o-o-o

"Twenty minutes, great. Thanks!" Evvie hung up her cellphone and stepped back inside. "He's sending one of the Valkyries. She'll be here in twenty," she informed her brother and Mrs. Donovan.

Mrs. Donovan handed a refilled bowl to one of the kids and put her hands on her hips. " _He_ 's not coming here, is he?" Being happily married, Mrs. Donovan was not thrilled to learn she had spent a passionate New Year's Eve with a glamored Sidhe, especially since the imposter wound up fathering her only child. Mr. Donovan, understanding that his wife _thought_ she was with him, took the whole thing rather well, but the Kringle was _persona non grata_ in the Donovan family.

Evvie held up her hands in a placating gesture. "No, no, he's very busy right now." She cocked her head, listening to Anya's thoughts. "Sounds like they're making progress in the bathroom. Brian, you may as well eat now." He cocked an eyebrow and she rolled her eyes. "You can't get any information from the kids until Lindsey's cleared them health-wise, and you already grilled us in the car. Come on, I don't want to be the only adult eating."

Mrs. Donovan smirked and handed her a bacon-laden bowl of noodly goodness. "I wouldn't worry about that, Evvie."

"I would say something sarcastic, but you're giving me food." Evvie hugged her friend's mother lightly and went to sit by the children, one of whom was measuring his paw against the tiger's, while another investigated the shark's rough skin. "Do you like them?" she asked.

Four of the five children nodded. One of them was still not speaking to grownups and scooted back into the recesses of the tiger tent. "Where'd they come from?" asked Martin – the boy with the auburn hair and cigarette burns on his cheek. He still watched everyone suspiciously, but upon learning that these 'freaks' had 'taken care of' their captors, wanted to help them, and really didn't mind him being surly, he'd warmed up to Evvie a bit. He wasn't clinging to her arm or climbing into her lap like Lisa, the youngest girl, but he would hold a conversation with her and did not hesitate to ask questions.

"Evvie and Anya took them down," Brian butted in. "It was part of some weird ritual to let them boss around the Wild Hunt."

Evvie elbowed her brother in the side. "Just eat, will you?" He looked offended, but she rolled her eyes and turned back to the children. "So, here's the thing: my father and Anya's father are faerie lords who run this thing called the Wild Hunt. It's kind of a 'who's who' of scary, dangerous faerie creatures that goes tearing around hunting whatever's in their path."

"Fairies do this?" Lisa asked dubiously, nestling under Evvie's free arm.

"Fairies kill people, genies aren't funny, and vampires don't sparkle," Brian informed her. "The TV is wrong about everything." He paused. "Except the part where Santa Claus is real. That's definitely true, he's Anya's father."

Luiz, the least reticent of the boys, looked dubious. "So… Tinkerbell and Santa Claus go… hunting?"

"And that skinny girl is Santa's daughter?" added Rachel, peering out from under her tangled dark hair.

Before Brian could confuse them further, Evvie held up a hand for quiet. "Okay, look. Yes, there are Tinkerbell-sized faeries; they're called the Little Folk, they're a lot of fun, and you should be polite if you see them because they can be dangerous if you really offend them." They also didn't come into the apartment any more since Anya's cat tried to eat one; for 7 dozen chocolate donuts, the local pixies had agreed to an armed neutrality with the fierce little creature and accepted that the apartment was Jimmy's territory. "But the faerie creatures I'm talking about are a lot bigger, a lot more powerful, and a lot more serious. Goblins, like my friends here, trolls, hellhounds, malks, kelpies, mari-lwyd… and the Sidhe, the great lords and ladies of the faerie. That's what Father and Santa Claus are, and trust me when I say that you don't want to pick a fight with Santa."

"Not that he's easy to pick a fight with," Brian assured the kids. "He's actually a really good sport about all the goofy Christmas stuff. Great sense of humor. And he likes people who hurt kids about as much as Evvie and Anya do. Evvie's dad, the Goblin King, isn't quite as friendly, and as far as I know, he's not into musical numbers." The children looked at him blankly and he heaved a sigh. "No respect for the classics."

"Ixnay on the _Abyrinthlay_ ," Evvie hissed. She didn't want the goblins to inquire about the iconic movie until Jim Henson and David Bowie had died on their own. Her father and his minions might be amused, flattered, enraged, or any combination of the above, and she preferred not to take chances. She also intended to wait for George Lucas's death before showing the goblins the prequel trilogy, out of concern for the creator's safety. "In any case, the Wild Hunt is an ancient tradition, where all the fiercest creatures of the Fair Folk go on a massive hunt, led jointly by Santa Claus and the Goblin King." The fact that the technical names of the two kings were Kringle and Erlking, respectively, would mean nothing to the kids and only confuse the narrative.

"And they're your fathers," Rachel reminded everyone skeptically.

"Goblins don't take orders from just anyone," Brian pointed out. "Evvie and Anya are changelings, half-mortal offspring of the Fair Folk. Once these two started showing signs of magic, their biological fathers showed up to claim them." A snort of derision came from the back of the tiger tent, and Brian quickly kept talking. "Hey! The Faerie world is a pretty sick and dangerous one, and those guys have a lot of enemies. If a Sidhe cares anything about their mortal kids, they stay the hell away until those kids are able to protect themselves." This was true if the child looked ordinary enough to pass as human. If they inherited their Faerie parent's appearance, all bets were off, and the child became either a liability to the parent or a slave to the Fair Folk. Some Faerie creatures accepted the first possibility and took the child under their protection; more of them didn't.

"Brian's right," Evvie agreed softly. "And they must have been keeping tabs on us over the years. As soon as Anya and I killed our first vampires, our fathers were there to reunite with us. Literally. They just kind of appeared next to us." They'd also been remarkably tolerant about the whole cheek swab business, but again, not information the children needed. "Afterward, they took us under their wings, introducing us to the Faerie world and visiting us in ours." Evvie had a sneaking suspicion that the faerie kings were short on children who _liked_ them; most of her half siblings seemed rather keen on acquiring their father's power. "Since the Hunt is kind of a big deal for them, they invited us to start hunting with them. And the first few Hunts we went on were _amazing._ Like a roller coaster, a rock concert, and a good swordfight all rolled into one." Her eyes glittered at even the memory of the thrill of the Hunt.

"What do they hunt?" demanded Shawn, the pallid boy who was clearly running a fever.

Evvie's lips quirked into a half smile. "Whatever is in our path, really. There's usually a main target – the most ferocious prey we can find – but hunters will go after other things as the Hunt passes by. The first few hunts we went on were out in the wilderness, hunting large predators and magical monsters. But, well… we hit exactly the sort of problem you might expect. We were hunting in an inhabited area, running down some sort of shadow demon, and the Hunt went right through a town."

"Go figure, the hunters started going after human bystanders," Brian grumbled around a mouthful of food. "You eat, I'll take it for a minute." Evvie looked dubious, but she did resume eating. "Well, the girls couldn't just sit back and let that happen, of course. So they did something forbidden: they interfered. Anya caught the fluids in a troll's arm and held him back from striking, while Evvie dissipated the energy of a hellhound's pounce into fire, throwing him to the ground. And just like that" – here he snapped his fingers – "the whole Hunt ground to a halt."

The boy at the back of the tent – Grant, according to the other children – inched forward to hear the story better. Brian, who equated traumatized kids with his neurotic cat, carefully ignored him so as not to spook the kid. "The Hunt has one rule that trumps all the rest: all power must be earned and taken. By stopping the other hunters from killing, the girls claimed a kind of power that wasn't theirs. Fortunately, the Hunt is made up of _very nice people_ who provided a way for them to earn it."

"Is he being sarcastic?" Shawn asked suspiciously.

"Nooo," Rachel drawled, making Evvie and Mrs. Donovan snort with laughter.

"These _very nice people_ ," Brian continued, "have a special sort of trial for people who get in someone's way. What they do is they give you a knife about a foot long, toss you down in front of a big mean predator, and tell you to kill it before it kills you. It's kind of like finals week."

Evvie elbowed him again. "They're under 12, dingbat. They haven't had finals week yet." But he did have a point.

"So, all you had to do was burn a tiger's brain out?" Luiz asked.

"Not quite." Evvie swallowed quickly. "During the Trial, you're forbidden to fight with magic. If you break the rule, it's an automatic failure, and the Hunt kills you." Actually, they made you into Elfshot, which was _definitely_ not something the kids needed to know about. "And if you don't kill the animal first, the animal kills you. So really, the only way to survive the situation is to win."

"How'd you win?" Grant spoke up for the first time.

"Evvie? Well, they dropped her in front of a Bengal tiger, and right off the bat, she got her stomach clawed up," Brian resumed. The children gasped. "Yeah, not a very good start to a death match, is it?"

"I get this from the guy who _lives_ in front of his computer?" Evvie asked archly. "You eat, Threepio. I'll tell the rest."

"Don't call your brother 'Threepio,'" Mrs. Donovan scolded her.

"Yeah!"

"Threepio was _there_ for the stories he told," Anya's mom continued with a grin. "Completely different from your brother." She and Evvie exchanged a high five.

"You're pretty mouthy for people who need my computer help," Brian commented.

"But we did feed you," Mrs. Donovan reminded him.

"Yeah, yeah," he mumbled, and went back to his food.

"Did the tiger really claw your stomach?" Luiz asked, not sure how reliable Brian was.

"Yep." Evvie lifted her tank top to reveal a severely scarred abdomen. "See all these long scars in sets of four? That's where it got me."

The children oohed and aahed at the mass of scar tissue. "What's with the handprint?"

Evvie looked sheepish. "Well, belly wounds bleed pretty badly… so I had to sear it shut."

"You weren't allowed to burn stuff, though," Lisa reminded her.

"Hey, who was there, me or you?" Evvie asked, poking the child's nose. "You're not allowed to use magic to _fight_ during your trial. Half the creatures in Faerie automatically heal by magic – it's just how their bodies work – so using magic to deal with wounds isn't a violation. So, yes, I made a fireball around my hand and burned the wound shut."

"Did it hurt?" Lisa asked, lightly touching the scars.

"Like hell," Evvie assured her emphatically. "Burning it hurt worse than the original cuts _and_ scrambling away. I was flailing all over the place and I almost passed out." She pointed to a long snakeskin that was being stretched up on the wall. "If it hadn't been for that cobra, the tiger would've killed me right then."

"You were saved by a snake?" Shawn's tone suggested that the story wasn't nearly as cool as he'd expected.

"Um… kind of." Evvie flopped over onto her back. "I was flailing around with the tiger – he was clawing my stomach, I was shrieking and striking around with my fists and the knife – and then my free hand hit something long and scaly. So… I picked up the snake and threw it in the tiger's face." She grinned sheepishly. "It gave me time to crawl away and deal with my wounds. By the time the tiger killed the snake, I was functioning again. Between the venom and the fight, the beast was weak and slow enough for me to put the knife in his throat the second time around."

"And that meant you passed?" Rachel asked dubiously.

"Yep. I was alive and the tiger was dead." Evvie shrugged at the disappointed looks around her. "That's how a real fight works, kids. It's not always about who's the biggest, the strongest, or even the smartest. It's about using what you have, and a fair bit of dumb luck." Technically, left on her own, she would have died after that anyway. She'd melted the skin, muscle, and intestines together into a non-functioning and probably septic mess. One of her father's lieutenants repaired the damage, seeing as she was now an officer of the Hunt, but a mortal surgeon would have had a hard time fixing her. The only good thing about her inept cauterization technique was that third-degree burns trash the nerves and cease to be painful.

The bathroom door opened and Lindsey led the first patient back to the front room. "That was a lot shorter than the version I heard," she remarked.

Anya knelt down to begin her full scan. "You were triple-checking our injuries to make sure the Sidhe healers did a good job. You demanded every detail before you'd let us go to bed."

Lindsey helped Grant, the next patient, to his feet. "You had visible scarring! It looked like they were sloppier than human surgeons!"

"The scarring is most important," Scath spoke up. He and the other goblins had been silent while they tasted the mortal delicacy of macaroni and cheese, but now they were paying attention. "It is the proof of their endurance and ferocity, that which gives the _wächter_ their power." The others nodded.

"They are the only officers permitted to block another's strike," Notker added. His fierce eyes glittered. "Rare indeed is the _wächter_ of the Hunt; they must bear the marks of their trial with pride."

Lindsey rolled her eyes. "Excuse me for my medical concerns. I should hate for them to conflict with your archaic rituals." The goblins had been visiting for over a year. The resident human had long since ceased to be afraid of them. That and her cooking had won her a modicum of respect. "What are we looking at, Anya?"

The hydromancer sighed. "It's a good thing we called for a healer. Fifteen total broken ribs, five other fractures, two concussions, and internal contusions all around. No bleeds, but several infections." She bit her lip. "Lungs feel a little off. We're all up to date on our TB vaccines, right?"

"You gave us a list three months ago," Mrs. Donovan reminded her. "The doctor thinks I'm a hypochondriac now, by the way."

"Go all out next time," Brian suggested. "Rubber gloves, allergy mask, hand sanitizer…"

Mrs. Donovan grinned. "I'll dig through Anya's old room and see what I can find."

Lindsey and Evvie started giggling in a manner most unbefitting of magical vigilantes. Anya swept them a freezing look and led Grant into the bathroom to have his infected leg drained. "Mum, they don't need encouragement."

o-o-o-o

It was well past midnight when Fenja, the Valkyrie healer, finally finished with the children. She spent a great deal of that time cursing in Old German about the mindless barbarism of vampires and mortal men. Brian tried once to point out that she couldn't blame all mortal men for this, but Fenja had a glare that silenced even him. The children were understandably afraid of her; this worked out just fine, though, because she made Brian seem completely non-threatening by comparison, easing the questioning process. Multiple helpings of ice cream and chocolate chip cookies helped, too.

"She's the last one?" Fenja confirmed after she had cleared Lisa.

"Yes, thank you," Anya confirmed. She considered for a brief moment. "About the venom?"

The Valkyrie grimaced. "Yes?"

"Do you think they'll be alright going through withdrawal like this?" she asked. "Or do we need to find something to taper them down?" Evvie, over the course of various health problems and medications, had experienced narcotic withdrawal twice; it was miserable both times, and Evvie had been a grown woman, carefully tapering from a responsible dose.

The towering blonde grunted and stared at the children. "If you can collect some Red venom and figure out how to taper, it will be kinder to them, but the withdrawal will be intense; they've been bitten often. If you want my advice, take them to the Erlking sooner than later." She nodded politely to the group and walked out, her duty done.

Evvie and Anya exchanged looks across the room. Evvie and her father had a mutually beneficial arrangement, partly in return for letting the goblins play with her, and partly out of genuine interest. After the children had a chance to recuperate a little and remember what good adults were like, the Erlking offered them a choice. They could remain in the mortal world, dealing with their heavy problems to the best of their human ability, either returning to their homes or having new ones found – or they could leave behind the world that they had suffered in and become goblins, having a permanent home and various outlets for their rage. The latter option was kind of unorthodox, but the girls believed that, for the children who chose to leave humanity, they were happier and less dangerous as goblins than as bitter, mistrusting, angry humans. Their parents – the human ones – didn't see it that way, but they disapproved of it less than they disapproved of the torture, and at the end of the day were willing to help the kids who remained human.

"I can attest that it's insanely hard to think once the withdrawal gets going," Evvie shrugged. "But it starts pretty much the first day you bring the dose down, and the first three days are the worst."

"So, if we want to let them choose before the symptoms hit…" Anya grimaced. "That basically leaves us tomorrow morning."

"Not a lot of time for them to reevaluate," Evvie agreed grimly.

"Can I offer _my_ opinion, O Guardians of Phoenix?" Brian asked sarcastically. Lisa had darted into the bathroom once healed and hadn't come out for her not-interrogation yet. "If a mere mortal can add his two cents to the affairs of goblins and faeries…"

"Sidhe," his sister reminded him. "The lords and ladies of Faerie are called Sidhe, and it pisses them off when you call them faeries."

"In the affairs of the Fair Folk," Brian corrected himself, preferring not to give the magical aristocracy too much respect. " _Anyway_ , if my baby sister isn't above my advice yet?"

"Depends on the advice," Evvie bantered back. "I've known you a pretty long time…" She yawned hugely, exhaustion catching up with her. "What's your take?"

"A few days' waiting wouldn't change much with these kids." He gestured to his laptop. "They've been abused and exploited, but they've also been introduced to the supernatural. They know that even strong humans are vulnerable, and that's not a cheerful prospect for them. You might sway Luiz and the little girl – Lisa, right? – with the whole family idea, but the rest of them are basically guaranteed to go goblin. Just get it out of the way and save them a nasty withdrawal."

Everyone grimaced, but Brian did have a point. Mrs. Donovan sighed and gathered up her things. "I'm going to head home," she announced quietly, in a tone of resigned disapproval. The girls were adults, and this was their world, not hers; as long as the children were choosing freely, she'd trust her daughter to be wise. That didn't mean she had to like it. "Domino! Ajax! Let's go, babies!" The two dogs reluctantly got off the couch and trailed after her.

"Good night, Mum," Anya said softly, giving her a one-armed hug. "Thank you for everything."

"Bye, Mrs. Donovan!" the other girls chorused, hugging her warmly. "And thank you!"

"Drive safe," Brian added from his spot at the table. He was updating the virtual map while he waited for Lisa.

Anya's mother nodded to him, too, waved farewell to the kids, and headed out the door. The girls looked after her uncomfortably for a moment. If their mothers were irrational or prone to screaming at them, it would be easy to ignore their objections, but someone as loving and humorous as Mrs. Donovan didn't need to yell. It was enough for her to go silent, and all three of them felt about six years old. Mrs. Morse's disapproval was just as bad. Mrs. McGrath's was actually worse. But despite the unsettling, childlike guilt, the girls always decided to go ahead with their efforts, so if their parents were equally stubborn, it was kind of hard to blame them. _Just be grateful we can all hold a truce,_ Anya thought. _I doubt we could pull this off without them._

Evvie grimaced. _I'm mostly grateful that we haven't been disowned yet._

"It's a hard concept for you two, but parents tend to love their kids in spite of their choices," Lindsey reminded them. She wasn't a part of their psychic link, but after twelve years together, she could read the gist from their faces. She was also the only one of the trio without an anxiety disorder, which gave her an edge in coping with family. She was about to say more, but interrupted herself with a huge yawn. "Ack, what time is it?"

"Quarter to one," Brian informed her.

Lindsay nodded, yawning again. "I have to work tomorrow. If I leave you three alone with the kids, do you promise not to burn the place down again?"

Evvie made a face at her. "That was one time! And I only burnt the carpet!"

"Yeah, yeah." Lindsay waved a dismissive hand. Lisa finally exited the bathroom and latched onto the remaining dog, a sofa-hogging pitbull name Lucius. Lindsay patted each of them on the head as she dragged herself off to her room.

Anya released a breath she'd been holding since her mum left. "How are you doing, sweetie?" The other kids were already tucked into sleeping bags, exhausted from the healing process.

"Okay," Lisa mumbled, hugging Lucius tightly. "I'm… really sleepy, though…" She punctuated this with a yawn.

Evvie came and scooted both the girl and the dog over toward Brian. "Tell you what," she suggested, "you answer a couple questions for Brian, and I'll get you another cup of cocoa."

Lisa perked up a little. "With three marshmallows?"

"Three marshmallows it is!" Evvie trotted off to the kitchen, while Brian started asking his basic questions.

Anya stretched herself determinedly. "I'm going to put on shoes and go out to get a tapering dose."

Evvie popped her head out of the fridge. "Need any help?"

She shook her head. "All I need is a little saliva. I can get that without a confrontation." She returned to her room and wearily laced her sneakers back on. _It's just one little errand, then I can go to bed,_ she told herself. Maybe she'd get lucky and actually sleep tonight! The changeling snatched up an empty prescription bottle and headed back out to the front room.

Brian was typing furiously while Evvie handed Lisa her promised hot chocolate. "Three marshmallows, as promised," she said in an encouraging tone.

Little Lisa reached for the cup, but snatched her hand back immediately. "Too hot!"

"Not for long," the pyromancer assured her. She siphoned heat from the cup, drawing a few flames up her arms. "Here, is this better?"

The child had forgotten all about her cocoa. "Your fire's pretty!" she commented, eyes shining. "Why's it all green?"

"It comes out in different colors for different people." Evvie shifted the flame in her hand through the spectrum. "If you work at it, you can make it turn all sorts of colors, but everyone has their 'basic' version."

Lisa blinked wistfully at the color-changing fire. "Julie's was kind of a yellow-y orange."

"Sort of like this?" The changeling presented a traditionally golden flame with a smile. "Yeah, that's more of a normal color; it's usually non-humans who get the weird ones. Who's Julie? Friend back home?"

"She was my big sister," the child explained. Her face crumpled and she clutched Evvie's hand. "We were together when we got taken here, and they kept all the kids together, so she was always holding me and telling me we'd be safe, except we weren't safe, not ever, and then one day when the bad men were doing stuff to me, and Julie got mad, and fire came out of her hands."

"Oh, sweetie," Evvie murmured, taking the little girl in her arms. Anya stayed where she was, halfway to the door; in all the time they'd done this, they'd never run across a kid who manifested Talent. That could become all kinds of bad, especially if an abused wizard-to-be went missing. "What happened to Julie?"

"She's gone," Lisa whimpered into Evvie's chest. "They tied her up, and…." The child shivered violently. "Someone came to take her away. I couldn't tell if it was a man or a woman, 'cause I got so sick the minute they showed up, but they were strong, they just put their hand on Julie's neck and picked her up like she didn't weigh a thing, and they took her away, and I couldn't even say goodbye or do anything because I felt so sick, and then I passed out again, and…." She started shaking uncontrollably, clinging to her newfound protector.

Brian looked down at the shaking child, no longer typing. "Jesus," he whispered. "Look, Evvie, if we could do this later…." His sister nodded gratefully and carried Lisa over to her sleeping bag, with Lucius on her heels, murmuring to her and stroking her hair.

 _That stranger…_ Anya wet her lips nervously. _Vampires are scary, but not many things would make you sick just by walking into the room._

 _Or be that strong, or have a definite interest in acquiring children with Talent,_ Evvie confirmed. She was acting calm for Lisa's sake, but Anya could feel her dry mouth and cold hands.

Anya jumped when Brian tapped her on the shoulder. "Do you know what came for Julie?" he asked in an undertone. His face looked pale and drawn under the reddish-brown beard. "Can you find the kid?"

She took a deep breath and jerked the door open. "Yes to the first, no to the second. Not alive anyway." She shivered. "They handed her over to a skinwalker."


End file.
